


I've Pencil Sketched the Scene.  It's Feeling Byzantine.

by cumberhardhiddlesbitch



Series: The Rhombus 'Verse [23]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Drawing, F/M, Google Calendar is Poly Culture, M/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Road Trips, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24531574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumberhardhiddlesbitch/pseuds/cumberhardhiddlesbitch
Summary: Tom, Ben, and Shannon try to figure out a time to get together.  Shannon and Ben hatch a plan to go visit Tom on his day off, despite the fact that he'll be hours away, in Wales.
Relationships: Benedict Cumberbatch/Tom Hardy, Tom Hardy/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Rhombus 'Verse [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/715134
Kudos: 5





	I've Pencil Sketched the Scene.  It's Feeling Byzantine.

_Shannon leaned over her phone, looking at the Google calendar. “I just see this one day in a couple of weeks when Tom is off,” she said, glancing up at Ben. “Unless you’ve something on that day.”_

_Ben looked up at her. “The fifth? No, I’m truly off that day as well, and the following day besides.”_

_“One problem guys, I’m in Wales,” Tom said. “I’m off, but I’m not going to be back in London for just the day.”_

_“Oh, right.” Shannon looked up from the phone, blinked, her vision blurry for a moment from staring at the screen. “Even if you had a couple of days off I wouldn’t expect you to come back.”_

_“It’s too bad it’s such a tight schedule. They’re putting us up in these holiday cottages. Should be pretty nice.”_

_Ben grinned crookedly at him. “Might be pretty rustic,” he said. “Off season and all.”_

_“I’ll pack my warmest nightie.”_

_Ben leaned back. “It wouldn’t be so bad for a one day trip,” he said. “I’m not working much that week so I don’t need to worry about being tired out from it. Leave London in the early morning, spend the day with you, and home by evening. What do you think?”_

_Shannon glanced back down at the phone, trying not to let it rankle that Ben was managing to find time to spend with Tom, just because he had a car and the ability to think on his feet._

_“It’s a long drive, but if you don’t mind I’d love it,” Tom said._

_There was a long pause and Shannon glanced up, fearing that she’d missed something, only to find that both Ben and Tom were looking at her._

_“Well, Shannon?” Ben asked. “Do you want to go on a mad road trip to Wales and back in a couple of weeks?”_

_“Oh.” She sat up straight, glancing at Tom. “I didn’t realize I was in on this.”_

_“Only if you like,” Tom said, as Ben nodded._

_“I’d love to. Sounds like fun.” She put her phone away._

_“Good clean fun,” Tom said, his smile only a little wicked._

After lunch Shannon curled up in the well worn armchair in the corner of the cottage’s main room. She was sketching the play of the afternoon light against the back of Tom’s hand against the sofa when he moved suddenly, covering his mouth as he yawned, his head leaning back as he did. 

“You look like you’re falling asleep right there,” Shannon said, closing her sketchbook. She glanced at Ben, who didn’t look much more lively. “Both of you, actually.”

“Just an early morning,” Ben said. “I’ll be alright after a walk.” 

“Yes.” Tom sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees. “A nice brisk walk.”

Shannon stood up and walked over to Tom, resting her hand on the back of his neck. “I think that’s about the last thing you need,” she said, smiling when he tilted his head up at her. “You need a lie down.”

“I might never get up, and I don’t want to miss any of your visit,” Tom said, glancing between her and Ben.

“I wouldn’t mind a nice walk on my own, and some time to do some plein air sketching, if Ben wouldn’t mind staying here to keep you company.”

Tom stood up abruptly, the clumsy sudden movements of a tired person trying to make himself move forward. He touched her lower back, gently pushing her towards the kitchen. As they stepped into that space Ben cleared his throat and stood, walking into the washroom at the other end of the cottage.

“Do you really want to go for a walk on your own?” Tom asked.

“I really do. I haven’t been by myself all day, after all. And I think Ben would like even a few minutes to visit with you alone. More if you’re not going to fall asleep.”

“And you’re alright with that?”

“Of course I am. I had you all to myself not too long ago, and we’ve had a lovely morning all together. It will be no hardship for me to have a walk and sketch for a while.”

Tom reached for her, setting his hands on her hips before sliding them around to her back, pulling her close. She nuzzled the side of his neck, taking in the warm smell of his skin as he pressed his head into her shoulder. When he spoke the words were too muffled for her to make out. 

“What was that?” She stepped back, still holding onto him.

“You’re amazing.”

“I need a bit of time to myself. If you and Ben are happy to have some time to yourselves, then I’m happy about that too.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “It just makes sense.”

“Not everyone is swayed by sense.”

“Well, we are, and that’s all that matters.” She let go of him entirely, stepping back. “It should take me about twenty minutes to walk to Stackpole Head and I’ll probably be about an hour there. I’ll text you when I’m walking back.” She couldn’t hold back a sly smile. “Make sure your phone isn’t on silent.”

“Shannon,” he shook his head as she leaned in for a kiss.

“I’m going to get my coat. You two have fun.”

Ben came out of the washroom as she was arranging her sketchbook and pencils in her bag. 

“Are you going out?”

“For a bit, yes. There’s a path that goes to Stackpole Head and I’ll spend some time there drawing. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Do you not want us to come with you?” Ben asked.

“Tom could do with a rest more than a walk, and I was hoping you’d keep him company.” Shannon did up the snap at the top of her jacket.

Ben’s smile was small, as if he was trying to hide how pleased he was. “Alright.” He walked her to the door. “Thanks,” he said, his voice too soft to carry.

“Any time,” she said, then giggled to herself as he shut the door behind her, the idea that this arrangement was so commonplace to them that she might say “any time” amusing her as she began her walk.

After a short walk along the road she found the path and followed it along the curve of Barafundle Bay. She stopped to put her hood up, sacrificing some of her peripheral vision to keep the steady breeze from cooling her too much. The sea was choppy, and the beauty of the sweeping beach and the rolling dunes was tempered by the gray skies. Still, she was happy to have the path to herself. Far below on the beach there was a small group of people braving the weather to walk along the wet sand, but she met no one else on the path. 

There was a bench at the lookout point, just as she had hoped, and she set her bag down as she looked around. The early spring sunshine was bright but thin, illuminating the sparse foliage around the edges of the bay in blue tones. She thought for a moment then sat down facing southeast, took out her softest pencil, and began to sketch the crenellations of the cliff opposite. 

She lost herself in the focus of the work for a while, the rhythm of looking between the cliff and her paper lulling her into a pleasant sort of trance. When the page was half filled she found herself looking up, stretching her hand. She glanced at her phone, then decided to set an alarm, rather than be caught by surprise. It wasn’t as though Tom and Ben would be expecting her at a precise time but she had estimated two hours that she’d be gone. 

As she set the phone down she wondered what they were doing, and found herself feeling flushed as she allowed her thoughts to wander to a subject she had successfully kept walled off for some time. She hoped Tom was resting, but surely he wouldn’t want to sleep given the short amount of time he had to visit them. Would he lean his head back on the sofa while Ben curled up close to him? Would Ben even take such a posture, long legs folded up onto the furniture? 

She’d never seen Tom’s face when she was pressed into his side, or kissing his neck, though she’d heard his pleased little murmurs and gasps. What would it be like to be able to see his face in those moments, when he was unguarded, caught up in sensation. 

She stared into the middle distance, not even seeing the scenery below as she let herself imagine the two of them together. Ben was taller, by a fair amount. Would he ever use that advantage, leaning in for a kiss, holding the back of Tom’s head as Tom tilted his face up? 

She found herself hoping that he did, hoping that Tom had the luxury of being held by hands larger than his own. As much as she might try to care for him she didn’t come close to matching him in strength. Ben, though he didn’t have Tom’s obvious strength, would come closer. 

Thoughts she’d kept carefully at bay rushed in as she gave herself permission to imagine them together. The thought of Tom’s hands against Ben’s smooth pale skin made her breath catch in her throat. She turned to a fresh page and began sketching, working out an idea that had become lodged in her mind. By the time she heard footsteps approaching she had covered most of the page, and closed the book, hoping she didn’t look too furtive as she slipped it back into her bag. 

She stood and stretched, taking one last look at the beach below. Along the horizon dark swaths of rain seemed to be slowly moving closer. She switched the alarm off on her phone and put her hood up as she walked back to the cottage. 

She was nearly back when she heard the soft ping of a text. Fishing her phone out of her bag she found a message from Tom.

_Have you started back? The sky looks threatening from here._

_Almost back,_ she replied. She paused when the cottage was in sight, looking back at the way she’d come. The sky was indeed darker, though the rain hardly looked closer. She turned back to the cottage, sure that the boys had enough warning, and made her way to the door.

The warmer air inside was a welcome change. She hung her coat on the hook inside the door and brought her bag into the main room, setting it on the table. The floppy bag fell over, spilling her sketchbook out. She slid it out and laid it flat on the table, then hung her bag with her coat. Ben and Tom were on the sofa, nearly as she’d imagined, Ben’s long legs folded up as he leaned on Tom’s side, but she hadn’t anticipated the Scrabble board set up on the coffee table. 

“Were you two playing scrabble while I was gone?” 

“We just got it set up,” Tom said. “Care for a friendly game?”

“Does it have to be friendly?” she asked, pulling the ottoman around to settle herself in front of a tile holder.

“Definitely not,” Ben said, standing up, threading himself through the narrow space she’d left him. “I’m going to make some tea for this.”

“How was your walk?” Tom asked.

“Brisk, but nice,” she said. “There’s a great view. I did some sketching, then came back along the same path.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Ben said, turning away from the worktop, reaching for the book on the table.

“Ben, no,” she said, her voice sharper than she’d intended. He froze with his hand over the sketch book. “Sorry, it’s just that sketch books are kind of private. I’d rather show you a finished drawing.”

“Bit like asking to see a writer’s journal,” Tom said, apparently unruffled by her tone.

“I didn’t realize,” he said turning away from it. “My apologies.” He held up a box of tea towards her. “Do you want rooibos, or something stronger?”

“Rooibos is good,” she said, turning back towards Tom as Ben nodded. She smiled to herself as she heard him ripping the top of the box open, realizing that Tom had gone to the trouble of getting it just for her. 

Shannon reached into the tile bag and pulled out a U. “Well I’m not going first. Tom?” 

Tom pulled an H. “Ben, do you want me to pick a tile for you?”

“Go ahead,” Ben said, looking in from the kitchen as Tom picked. 

“You got an F, guess you go first.”

“I shall be there anon,” Ben said as the kettle rumbled.

Tom rolled his eyes. “There’s only a desk dictionary here Ben, don’t be trying any of that old English crap on us.”

“Shakespeare is hardly old English,” Ben protested as he brought a mug out to Shannon. He set it carefully on a coaster before returning to the kitchen.

“Just watch out, I wouldn’t put it past Shannon to challenge you.”

“Hey, why would I be the one to challenge him?” Shannon asked. “You’re the one who has the inside knowledge of what kind of dictionary this place has.”

“Oh yes, and of an evening I love nothing more than to read the dictionary, just waiting for the day I can trip up my lovers in a game of Scrabble.”

“Well, we’re not here, what else are you going to do?” Shannon asked.

Tom snickered. “I promise, not that. Mostly sleep.”

“You’re not keen on challenging words, are you Shannon?” Ben asked as he returned to the living room with two mugs of tea.

“I don’t have any problem calling your bluff, if it comes to that,” she said, holding onto her tea as Ben settled himself on the sofa, knee bumping into the table.

“We’re going to have a nice clean game,” Tom said, picking up the bag of tiles. “No funny business.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Shannon said, smirking at Ben over the rim of her mug as Tom looked down at his tiles.

About an hour later Tom was out of tiles, Ben had three, and Shannon was holding her last two in her hand, sure that there had to be somewhere to land both of them. She was fairly sure that Ben had gotten stuck with an X in the end, so her victory was all but certain, but she wanted the pleasure of having an empty tile rail. Finally she saw it, a nest of short words so snug she felt she’d be better off dropping the E and the S in with a pair of tweezers. 

“Done,” she said, counting the words out in each direction. “All told that’s 16 for me. I believe I’ve won.”

Ben looked at the score sheet. “I’m ahead of you by 9, still,” he said. “What makes you think you’ve won?”

“You’ve got an X on your rail, which is worth 8 points off, and you’ve two others besides.”

Ben turned the rail around with a flourish. “Two Es and a C,” he said. “I’m still ahead of you by six.”

“Then where’s the X?” she asked, looking down at the board. “Tom, did you know this set was missing the X?”

“I wasn’t aware, because it’s not,” he said, leaning back against the sofa and sticking his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t see it.”

“I have it.” He pulled it out of his pocket, turning it over in his fingers. “I never said I was out of tiles, just out of the game.”

“Tom! That is not on!” she said, but she laughed to see him languidly handling the small Scrabble tile as if it was a chip in a game with much higher stakes.

“Why not? It didn’t change the course of the game. I was going to lose regardless. Only this way I figured you’d both assume the other one was stuck with it. Made things a little more interesting for me, considering you both trounced me.”

“You nutter.” Ben sounded fond. “I didn’t even think about that. And I won anyway.”

“That you did.” Shannon drained the last of her tea, long gone cold and a tiny bit bitter. “Fair and square even, despite someone’s best efforts.”

Tom arched his back, stretching, and looked at his watch. “I’m guessing you’ll not have much traffic on the way home.”

“Hoping so, I think we’ll have timed it right,” Ben said.

“Do you need anything before you go?” Tom stood up and Ben followed. Shannon stayed on the ottoman, not quite ready to admit that the visit was coming to an end.

“I think we’ve got everything we need,” she said slowly, trying to think of any reason to stay even a bit longer.

“We do need petrol,” Ben said as he stretched his legs out.

“Closest place is opposite the way you’re going, on Tenby high street,” Tom said. “Even that’s about twenty minutes from here.”

“I can go now, collect Shannon on my way back,” Ben said, heading to the coat rack by the door. 

“We aren’t that low on petrol, we can just get it on the way to London,” she said, standing too, feeling as though she was literally tearing herself away.

“I think I’d feel more at ease if I topped up in Tenby,” Ben said, already pulling his jacket on. She looked at him, bewildered, then blushed and looked away as he winked at her.

“Alright. I’m sure I’ll be ready by the time you return.”

“Back in a tick,” he said, leaning down to kiss Tom’s cheek before he left. 

Shannon waited until she heard him drive away before she spoke. “That’s pretty nice of him, isn’t it?”

“Fair play, more like.”

“True.” She stood up and moved over to the sofa, leaning against Tom as she sank into the old cushions. He pulled her close and she angled her face up as he leaned in to kiss her, hitching her knee up onto his thigh as she twisted herself to press more fully against him. 

“Oh, go on then,” Tom said, bending his head forward to nuzzle against the side of her neck as he grasped her hips, pulling her fully onto him, a knee to either side of his legs. “I know you love this.” He spread his hands over her buttocks, pulling her close. 

“I do.” She clasped her hands behind his neck as she kissed him, then rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closed as he rubbed her back. 

“What’s in that sketch book?” Tom asked softly. 

She shifted so her temple was resting against the curve of his shoulder. “Thought you said it was private?” 

“It is, but I want to know.” He jostled her lightly. “You don’t have to tell me but the look you gave Ben has me curious.” 

“I didn’t mean to give him a _look_ ,” she said, lifting her head. 

“It’s alright, he deserved it.” 

She held still for a moment, considering. It would be a relief to tell him, and might even make riding home with Ben less awkward if she’d gotten her infatuation of the idea of the two of them together off her chest. “I’ll show you.” She hitched herself back and stood up, going to the table to retrieve her book.

When she returned she pushed the ottoman back around so she could sit with her feet up, knees bent to support the book. Once she was settled she opened it to the middle, turning pages until she found the first few sketches of the bay. “That’s where I started. Then my mind wandered.” She turned the page, watching Tom’s face carefully as he took it in.

“Huh. That is remarkable.” He stared down at the drawing, chewing absentmindedly on the edge of his thumb for a moment. Shannon looked at her own sketch, trying to imagine how Tom would see it. She’d sketched a partial view of Ben’s face, his eye closed, Tom’s thumb tracing along the ridge of his cheekbone as his fingers curled around the angle of his jaw. “That’s Ben’s face.”

“Yeah. And your hand, more or less.” She took Tom’s hand in hers, turned it over, fairly pleased with how the quick sketch had come out.

“You did it without a reference?” 

“Of course. I mean, I wasn’t hovering outside the window, I really did walk down to the bay.”

“That’s just remarkable.” 

She looked up from where she’d been examining his hand, only to find that he was staring at her, a small smile quirking the edges of his mouth. “What?”

“Just admiring you.”

She snorted, tucking herself more firmly against his side, all the easier not to meet his eye. 

“You are though.” He managed to wrap his arm around her shoulders, the book sliding across her leg towards him as she turned into the embrace.

“There’s this too,” she said, turning the page and tilting the book so he could see it. She didn’t look at him, but she heard his sharp intake of breath, and felt him pull the book closer. After a moment she forced herself to look at the page, to try to see it as he was seeing it. 

The sketch took up only about a quarter of the page, the lines more hurried than the previous one, but the picture no less clear for all that. Ben’s hand was splayed out against the left side of Tom’s chest, the tips of his fingers turning white where they pressed against the firm line of Tom’s clavicle, his tattoos mere shadows under the outline of Ben’s hand.

“Now that is something,” Tom said softly. He cleared his throat, then reached over to her, slowly setting his fingertips against her clavicle and pushing his hand against her chest, just hard enough that his fingernails went white at the tips. “What had you thinking Ben would push me like that?”

She took the book from him, closed it, and set it on the coffee table, then knelt on the couch beside him, pushing on his chest and shoulder herself until he got the idea and swung his legs up onto the cushions, easing her down with him as he laid back. She kept herself propped up above him, one hand pressed down on his chest, to drive her point home. 

“Just getting all hot and bothered thinking about my boyfriend hooking up with his boyfriend,” she said, her voice hoarse. 

She relaxed a bit when he chuckled, letting him pull her close.”Have you thought about that before?” 

"No, not you and Ben."

Tom pushed himself back into the upholstery, pulling his chin in so he could look at her. "Not me and _Ben?_ " he asked. "Me and someone else?"

"Not exactly. When you told me about you and Greg, I looked him up later." She felt reckless, letting him see, in essence, her most private thoughts. "I might have had a few pleasant thoughts about the two of you together, back in the day."

"Really." Tom's voice was strained as he tried to sit up in the corner of the couch and take her with him. She let her foot drop to the floor and supported herself, half leaning over him as he moved, only too happy to settle into his arms once he landed. "Only a few pleasant thoughts?" 

She leaned on his upper arm, looking up at him, emboldened by the warmth in his voice. "Only a few. I do have some self control."

"You need to have self control over your thoughts? Right," he said, before she could respond. "I sometimes forget that you grew up Catholic."

"It's not that. It just doesn't seem cricket to involve my actual boyfriend in a fantasy I'm not sharing with him."

“It’s fine. I do like hearing about it though.” He rubbed her back. “I like hearing about everything you like.”

“I like, in general, the aesthetics of two attractive people together.” She paused, trying to think of how to continue. 

“Shocking.” 

She looked up quickly to find him smiling at her. “Shut it. I’m trying here.”

“I know. Sorry.” He kissed the top of her head. 

“I like the idea of seeing people in their private intimate moments. I wouldn’t ever want to do that without their consent, but if I had their permission, or if they were in a public space, I do like that.”

He breathed so deeply she rose and fell with the motion of his breath. “A public space like, is this an Amsterdam thing?”

She giggled, realizing what he might have wondered about her travels. “No, more like when people forget themselves in a club or when they’re dancing. I used to go out with Edward and it wasn’t as if men expose themselves but they’re more wrapped up in each other than you might expect.” She sighed. “I know this makes me sound really bad, like I go around staring at handsome men making out but it’s not like that.”

“They were in a place where people go to be seen, amongst other things,” Tom said. “Probably didn’t exactly have you in mind as their audience but it wasn’t as though you were spying on them.”

“Exactly.” She closed her eyes, just enjoying the way his warmth seeped through her shirt. 

“So do you want to watch Ben and I?” 

She knew he felt the stutter in her breath by the way his arm tightened around her. 

“I’m just curious,” Tom said. “Or do you just like thinking about it?”

She swallowed hard. “I’d say that would be quite outside the norm of our friendship,” she said. “It might completely change it.”

“Completely? Ben is pretty comfortable getting his kit off in front of people.”

“Maybe so, but this is different. You can’t observe something without changing it, if your observation is known.”

“True to a point but I think you underestimate how unbothered Ben is on the one hand and how much he likes showing off on the other.” 

“If Ben asked me if he could watch me with you I’d not only say no, I’d feel a bit disturbed.” 

“You don’t have an established kink for being watched though,” Tom said.

She felt her brows draw together. “And Ben does?”

He sighed, realizing what he’d done. “I’ve as good as told you, so yes, he does, amongst good friends. Amongst people he trusts.” 

“Huh.” She sat back on his knees, stretching her hips, reached for his hands so she could lean back. “Is that something you’ve done with him before?” 

“No, I haven’t.” 

She straightened up and eased herself off to the side, her legs still thrown over his as she rested against his biceps. “Does that mean you don’t like it, yourself?”

When he looked down at her he seemed amused but also exasperated. “Be simpler to just ask me, wouldn’t it?”

She sighed. “Do you specifically not like having an audience?”

“I don’t have a strong feeling about it one way or the other, but if Ben agreed to have you present I’d enjoy it too.” 

“I’d like to see what it’s like when you’re dominating someone else.”

“Oh.” Tom turned towards her, pulling his knee up onto the sofa. “Do you now.” His smile looked almost hesitant. “Do you want to see that in a sexual context?”

“I hadn’t considered otherwise, to be honest.” She reached out to play with a bit of his hair that was sticking up by his ear, trying to tuck it down. It was stubborn, and her hand faltered when she considered why his hair might be mussed. “Do you often dominate him,” she paused. “Platonically?”

Tom smiled, a single incisor slipping over his bottom lip for a moment. She watched as he traced the tip of his tooth with his tongue, waiting for his answer. “No.”

“Alright then. I want to see it all. Whatever you’re both comfortable showing me.”

“Ok.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to pull her closer to him, but the angle and the relatively narrow surface of the sofa left her leaning against him awkwardly. “Shall I ask him?” Tom rested his chin on her shoulder.

“I think it’s better if you ask him. He might feel put on the spot regardless, but at least if it’s you he won’t have to worry about being polite.”

“Because I’m so rude?” Tom stretched out the last word, nuzzling at her neck.

“Because he knows you so well.” She stood up, unable to tolerate the strange position she’d been in. “How long until he gets back?”

Tom glanced at his watch. “About half an hour.” He reached out and held onto her waistband. “Why?” He pulled at the fabric, raising an eyebrow as he looked up at her.

She set her hand over his. “Could just do with a cuddle.”

“We can do that.” He pulled himself up off the sofa with his hands on her hips, then stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Lead on.”

She walked towards the bedroom, almost stumbling as she reached the door, not sure she wanted to see a bed all in disarray from Tom and Ben’s previous activities. When she pushed the door open though she saw that the bed was neatly made, the duvet even folded down at one corner. 

Tom let go of her hips and walked to the bed, pulling the covers back, and she noted the sharp straight creases on the fitted sheet. 

“Did you change the linens?” she asked as he held the covers up for her. She kicked her shoes off and crawled in, nothing but the faint scent of an unfamiliar detergent surrounding her as she moved deeper into the bed.

“Ben did. He thought you might want a cuddle before you left.” He kept the covers tight around her shoulders as he joined her, one arm and a leg pulling her close.

“Oh, Ben thought?” she said. “So, if it was up to you, I’d’ve had to crack the sheets to get in?”

“Shannon!” Tom collapsed into laughter as she kept her face carefully blank, expecting an answer. “We aren’t all that bad.” He kept snickering, barely controlling himself. “You are, apparently.”

“When it’s required.” She eased herself closer.

“Well, Ben is a gentleman, in any case.”

“It was very polite.” She was pressed against Tom’s side, their legs tangled together. “Not that anyone’s written the book on polyamorous ettiquette.”

“I think a few people have, actually,” Tom said. 

“Have you read any?” She closed her eyes, leaning on him. She’d stumbled into an uncomfortable subject, the fact that she was, like it or not, part of a relationship that had a place in a culture she’d never been part of before.

“Flipped through a few. Usually found something I thought was silly or irritating. We could do better.”

“Could we?” She tilted her chin up to look at him. 

“Well, we probably could now.” He hugged her tighter for a moment. “I think we’ve done a pretty admirable job of finding our own way, all things considered.”

“I think we have done.”

“Thanks for making the trip out here to see me. The two of you. I know it’s a long way to go in one day. I was just getting a little wild, not being able to see either of you for so long.”

“We were happy to, and it was a nice drive. It was fun.”

“Yeah?” Tom sounded so unguardedly happy she felt her heart warm.

“It really was. Ben is a good friend now. It was nice just to spend time with him.” She let herself lean on Tom’s arm, her thoughts drifting, then lifted her head as something occurred to her. “When Ben picked me up this morning he brought me a soy chai latte with a shot of espresso in it.”

“That was nice of him.” 

Shannon gently punched his upper arm. “And very specific. Were you feeding him details about me?”

“Just your coffee order.” He grinned at her. “It’s not like I gave him an MI-6 briefing, he just asked me what you might like.”

“That’s alright then.” She rested her head back down and closed her eyes, humming happily as he wrapped his arm firmly around her back. “I miss this.” 

“I miss sleeping with you too.” He kissed the crown of her head. 

“I feel like I might actually fall asleep.” 

“Same here.” He tilted himself towards her a bit, tucking his leg between her knees. She sighed contentedly and let herself drift. 

A knocking on the bedroom door awakened her, and she lifted her head to see Ben hesitantly opening the door. 

“Come in,” she said, her voice softened with sleep.

“Hi,” he said, standing near the door. “I’ve been making a racket out there, hoping I could wake you two up.”

“I didn’t even hear you.” She rested her head back down on Tom’s chest, feeling truly weary. “Sorry about that.”

“I heard you,” Tom said. “I just couldn’t be arsed.”

“Thanks.” Ben sat down on the edge of the mattress. “We really should be going though.”

“I know. This is just the most comfortable I’ve ever been. The bed is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever felt. This might be hopeless.” She let her eyes close. 

“I could pull the duvet off, if that would help.” Ben toyed with the edge of the blanket and she grasped it, holding tight.

“That would be rather bold of you.”

Tom stroked her hair while Ben leaned against the headboard, his feet still on the ground. “If I get much more comfortable this will be dangerous for all of us,” he said. “Besides, your hot chocolate will get cold out in the car.”

She lifted her head up, looking at him. “You got me a hot chocolate?”

“Yes, at the petrol station.”

She pushed herself up on her elbows, letting the duvet fall away. “Well then.”

“You’re willing to tear yourself away for a petrol station hot chocolate?” Tom asked. “I think I’m a bit hurt.”

“Don’t be hurt. If I have to leave anyway I can’t help if I’m a bit incentivized by a hot chocolate.” She looked down to see his lower lip stuck out. “Aww, no, Tom,” she said, crawling closer so she could cover the side of his face with kisses.

“Awww, Tommmm,” Ben echoed, ostentatiously kissing the other side of his face until Tom growled at them and sat up, moving carefully so he didn’t knock either of them as he did.

“Alright, everyone out,” Tom said, struggling out from under the duvet that Ben was weighting down as he slid out over the foot of the bed, landing in an undignified crouch. Ben stood and offered him a hand up while Shannon reluctantly rolled to the edge of the bed, swinging her feet to the floor. She left Tom and Ben in the bedroom as she gathered up her sketchbook and her bag. They came out as she was pulling her coat on.

“Thanks again for making the trip,” Tom said. He held his arm out to the side and Shannon stepped into the hug, her hand bumping into Ben’s on Tom’s back as Tom pulled Ben close with his other arm. Ben held onto her hand, then reached for her other forearm, the two of them squeezing Tom tight.

Shannon tilted her head forward, looking at Tom. His eyes were closed, a tiny smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

“How am I supposed to let you two go?” he asked.

“Well, there is the issue of Shannon’s hot chocolate getting cold,” Ben said. He looked up at Shannon and caught her eye. _On three?_ he mouthed at her, theatrically. 

She nodded, and watched as Ben counted to three, the two of them both leaning in and covering Tom’s face with kisses. 

Tom laughed and growled at them. “Gerroff,” he muttered as he pushed them gently away, his eyes still screwed shut. Shannon stepped away from him, but he held her hand, pulling her close again as he opened his eyes. “Safe home,” he said, pulling her close for a kiss. She let her eyes close as he pressed his mouth to hers, not minding that Ben was just steps away.

As she stepped back Tom pulled Ben close, and she walked to the door, knowing it would only get harder to walk away the longer they stayed. 

In the car she set her coat in the back, within reach, and set her bag by her feet before fastening her seatbelt. The hot chocolate Ben had promised was still warm. She had only taken her first sip when she heard his footsteps on the gravel walk. He stashed his coat in the back as well, then settled himself behind the wheel, checking his mirrors before starting the car. He looked over at her as he buckled his seat belt.

“Is it good?” he asked, looking at the cup.

“It’s very good. Actually, it’s good hot chocolate, not just good for petrol station hot chocolate.”

“I thought it might be, but I figured you’d still like it if it was so bad it’s good.”

Shannon held the cup in both hands, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to look out the windscreen without watching the road. “I would have.” She took another sip, enjoying the bittersweet flavor. “Have you ever noticed, sometimes the drive home seems shorter than the drive to a place?”

“I have.” Ben turned on the wipers as the fine mist turned to a proper rain. “I think it has to do with the anticipation of getting away, and then the familiarity of returning home.”

“I think so too. Though there have been times that it’s been downright eerie.”

“Does it happen to you with planes as well, or only on car trips?” 

Shannon leaned her head back as she thought. “It’s funny because long plane trips east are always at night so I sleep through most of it, so coming back to England always feels shorter, whether I felt like I was coming here for a visit or coming home. Going west it’s during the day so I’m awake, and all the morning before I’m usually rushing about, getting everything ready so it seems like a very long day.” She sighed. “With as often as I travel you’d think I’d be a pro. I’ve always got this idea that someday I’ll get it right, but it’s always a bit of a scramble.”

“I’ve gotten better over the years but I tend to scramble too.” He glanced at her for a moment. “I think this might be the first trip I’ve taken in a while where I didn’t.”

She laughed. “Probably because we were only gone for the day. Even if you’d left something home, you’re more or less going back for it now.”

“True enough. It was a good trip though. I think Tom really appreciated it.”

“I’m sure he did.” She fought hard to keep the salacious tone from her voice, not wanting to mock Ben, despite what an easy setup it had been. “I’m glad we could do something like this for him.”

“Considering everything he does for us,” Ben agreed, his voice soft.

Shannon nodded, warmth coming to her cheeks as she wondered if he meant all that Tom did for them in terms of dominating them when they needed it. She snuck a look at Ben as she reached for her hot chocolate, and found him looking entirely at ease. She took a deep breath to steady herself as she looked out her window, glad he hadn’t noticed her moment of discomfort.

“What do you want for dinner?” Ben asked.

“Hadn’t really thought about it,” she said. “Something warm. I don’t necessarily want to cook though.”

“Same here. We should be home around eight.” He shrugged and pushed his shoulders back, stretching out. “Unless you wanted to get something on the way?”

She shook her head. “No, that doesn’t appeal to me. Though that’s easy for me to say, filling up on hot chocolate and all.”

“It doesn’t appeal to me either. Just didn’t want to make you wait until we got to London if you got hungry sooner.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll let you know if I’m suddenly famished.”

“Please do.” 

She relaxed as she watched the gray scenery go by, the varied glimpses of the seashore giving way to the tree lined highway, the monotony of both the view and the windscreen wipers lulling her into a doze. 

She woke up when she felt the car come to a stop. Disoriented for a moment, she looked around to discover they were in a car park. 

“I just need to stretch my legs for a moment,” Ben said.

She nodded. “I’d like to get out too.” She picked up the hot chocolate cup and shook it a bit, unsurprised to find that what was left was cool and congealed. “I didn’t drop this, did I?”

“You fell asleep with it in your hands. You didn’t even wake up when I took it off of you.”

“Didn’t realize I was so sleepy.” The soft rain outside woke her fully as soon as she stepped out of the car. She retrieved her coat, Ben waiting for her as she shrugged it on. 

“Do you want a coffee or anything while we’re here?” Ben asked.

“No, I’m alright, thanks.” As they stepped into the service center the smell of various foods was initially appealing, and then almost immediately off-putting. “I’ll meet you back here?”

Ben nodded. “See you in a minute.” 

In the washroom she tried not to look at her reflection under the fluorescent lights, but as always she had a strange fascination with how horrid they made her look. She pulled a face at herself as she washed her hands, then went back into the food court area to look for Ben. It took her a moment to realize that he was sitting next to a pillar, his hood pulled up. She sat down next to him, nudging him with her elbow.

“Very incognito,” she said softly.

Ben chuckled. “What else is a hood for?” He sat up straight. “Are you ready to go?”

“I am.” She noticed how tired he still looked as he stood, shaking his head. “I could drive for a bit, if you like.”

Ben looked at her as they walked to the door. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all.” 

He handed her the keys as they got closer, and she had a moment of pause as she stood next to the driver’s side door, realizing that it was easily the most expensive car she’d ever driven.

“There’s a switch on the side of the seat to slide it closer,” Ben said as he climbed into the passenger seat. “You can change the tilt of the steering wheel too.”

“I think that’s alright,” she said, adjusting the angle of the seat. Adjusting the mirrors took only a moment, and she took the time to figure out the windshield wiper and indicator switches as well. “Alright,” she said, switching it on. “Allons-y.”

The car responded quickly to her every move, a slightly disconcerting feeling given that she was used to coaxing older sturdy little compact cars along. By the time she got to the access road leading up to the motorway she was comfortable enough, and had to chuckle as she merged, her speed picking up far quicker than she’d anticipated. Luckily the traffic was sparse, and she eased off on the accelerator to keep her distance from the next car.

“You can use the cruise control, if you’ve got a lead food,” Ben said, looking at her slyly from under his hood.

“I do not have a lead foot,” she protested. “Not much of one anyway. I just wasn’t expecting it to be that responsive.”

“The cruise button is there, if you want it,” Ben said, leaning over and pointing at the wheel.

“Thanks.” She set it, letting her feet rest comfortably on the floor. 

“It’ll slow you down if the traffic in front of you slows down too,” Ben said. He leaned his head back against the seat. “There’s a decent chance I might fall asleep. Just wake me up when you want me to take over.”

“Will do.” When she glanced over his eyes were already closed.

She enjoyed the quiet, feeling entirely alert despite the gloom. Ben had set the GPS before they’d left, and she wondered if it was precisely to his home, and when she should ask him to take over if he was going to drop her off at hers. London was still hours away, though, plenty of time to figure that out.

She glanced at him from time to time as she drove, his face progressively more and more hidden as his head nodded sideways, the generous drape of his hood covering all but a sliver of his face. He looked soft, cozy and comfortable whereas she was used to seeing him in smart clothing, crisp Oxford shirts and trousers at the least. She had a sudden thought of how easy it was for her to slide her hand under Tom’s shirt when he was dressed similarly, her hand gliding along warm skin, the soft fleece brushing along the back of her hand. If Tom had had any restraint at all when she’d left him alone with Ben, he would have felt that as well. She took a deep breath and redoubled her effort of keeping her eyes on the road.

They were about half an hour from London when Ben stirred, sitting up and yawning hugely.

“I’m absolutely famished,” he said, reaching for the bottle of water in the console. He drank what sounded like half of it before he spoke again. “You must be too.”

“I’m definitely hungry now,” she said. “Any ideas?”

“Chinese,” he said, resolutely. “I know just the place.” He leaned forward and typed an address into the GPS. 

“Must be near your house?” she asked.

“It is. Would you mind coming over for dinner? I could take you over to yours afterwards.”

She did some quick math in her head. “That would be such a late night for you. I really don’t mind if you drop me off home first.”

“But then you wouldn’t get any food,” he said.

“I have plenty of food at home, I won’t go hungry,” she reassured him.

“You don’t have lemon chicken at home.” He looked at her plaintively, and she was surprised to realize he really wanted her to come over, despite the obvious inconvenience for him. “Come over for dinner, it’s really no trouble.”

“Alright. Thanks.” She found herself actually hungry. “Do you recommend the lemon chicken then?”

“Yes. I can read you the menu if you like, or I can just give you the highlights.”

“I know I want prawn crackers. Other than that I trust you to order for us, because I’m just going to say yes to everything right now.”

“Prawn crackers or prawn toast?” 

“Hmm.” 

“I’ll get both, and I’ll send the crackers home with you if we don’t eat them all.”

“Perfect.”

Shannon was grateful for the light traffic as she followed the GPS instructions while Ben ordered their dinner on the phone. She smiled to herself listening to him-- he was ordering more than enough food for the both of them and she appreciated the instinct of a host trying to make sure they had enough.

“I ordered two of the lemon chicken because I really like it and I’m greedy,” Ben explained. “They’re going to shame me with extra chopsticks, I can feel it.”

She laughed. “I like to think they’re just making sure I have enough.”

“That’s a nice way to look at it.” Ben leaned forward and changed the address in the GPS. “Now that I’ve ordered food I’m absolutely ravenous.”

“Same here.”

Shannon parked easily just up the street from the restaurant and watched Ben walk briskly up to the door. With his hood up he was just another tall, lanky man in skinny jeans out in Kentish Town. She smiled to herself, wondering if she would have even given him a second glance before now, or if it was his association with Tom that made her feel drawn to him. 

She looked down at her phone, forgotten for the past couple of hours while she’d been driving. She had a new text from Tom, asking if she was almost home, and impulsively she phoned him instead of texting back.

“Hey Shazza.” Tom sounded sleepy. “Are you home?”

“Not quite. I’m waiting for Ben to get back to the car. He’s picking up Chinese.”

“Yeah?” Tom sounded mildly confused.

“We’re having dinner together, at his place,” she said.

“Oh, nice. Is he taking you home after?”

“That’s the plan. I offered to just let him drop me off but he really seemed to want to have me over for dinner.”

“Well you’re friends aren’t you? Besides if it’s where I think you are it’s really good food.”

She looked up at the restaurant sign. “Anise?”

“That’s the one. Wish I was there. Not just for the food.”

“Thanks for clarifying.” As often happened when she was talking to Tom she found herself smiling.

“Shush. Text me when you’re home for real. I’ll probably be asleep but text me anyway.”

“Alright, I will.” She leaned her head back, closing her eyes as she imagined him, warm and sleepy.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” She lowered the phone to her lap and thumbed it off, just as Ben returned to the car.

“Were you talking to Tom?” he asked as he got in.

“What gave me away?” She tucked the phone into the center console before starting the car.

“Just your smile.” Ben paused for a moment. “Here, let’s swap, I’ll drive to my house.”

Shannon went round to the passenger side, and was soon glad she had, fairly sure that Ben was taking them on a route that the GPS would never have suggested, or at least one that she would have balked at, as he turned down yet another cobblestoned alley before emerging on a quiet street.

He found a spot in short order. “I love when this happens,” he said as he parked. “That’s my house, right there.”

The house was one of a row of yellow brick houses, set back from the edge of the curving footpath, a grassy hill opposite making the entire street feel quiet.

“Nicely done.” She followed him to the small gate at the front, carrying the bag of food.

Ben unlocked the door, disarming the alarm before moving aside to let her in. Ben hung her coat and bag in a narrow closet, then led her into the main part of the house. The front door opened on to a sitting room, a small cluster of white upholstered furniture clustered around a low table, everything in the room in sedate tones, except the walls themselves, which were a tropical blue, the mantle around the small fireplace the same white as the furniture. A single set of prayer bells hung by the door into the next part of the house and a brass bowl on the mantle were the only decorations, other than a rug rolled and propped in the corner.

"Do you meditate in here?" Shannon asked. The furniture looked altogether too inviting for that. Any attempt she made while sitting in an armchair would have turned into a nap instead, but the rolled rug and the Tibetan accents as well as the bright but calming tone on the wall made it seem likely that this was the intent.

"Not as often as I should," Ben said. "That was the decorator's idea. There's already a living room and another common space upstairs, so this was going to be either a library or a sitting area. I don't collect books, really, and I didn't want to start, so this is what it became."

"Oh, you had a decorator do the house." She almost bit her tongue when she heard her own tone. People hired decorators, of course they did, and it was a respectable profession, and one that required considerable skill, and someone like Ben, who had the money to renovate his home wouldn't leave the decoration to his own devices when he'd not done the construction himself. 

"You sound disappointed." Ben raised his eyebrows, challenging.

"Only that I was hoping to get a better sense of you by looking at your things, and I know decorators bring in their own accoutrements to make rooms look complete."

"A lot of the things are mine, though," Ben said. "Very little was added. I told her to arrange whatever pieces had come my way."

"Alright Virginia Woolfe."

Ben grinned, clearly pleased that she'd caught the reference. "I'll show you the rest of the house after we eat. This room is really more of a buffer between the front door and the rest of the house anyway. It’s a good place to have a quiet moment if there are people everywhere.”

“Does that happen often?” she asked as she followed him through the lounge and into the kitchen.

“From time to time. I like my own space, but I’m not against sharing it either.”

She set the bag on the table, thinking to herself that it would have easily seated eight, more if they really liked each other, and the open design of the kitchen and dining area meant that people seated at the worktop could be included too. She was surprised that Ben would have valued having that much space for others, and found herself unaccountably pleased by that little revelation. 

“Do you want water, or tea?” Ben asked as he set plates on the table. “I’ve got some sparkling water in the fridge.”

“Sparkling water would be perfect.” She opened the bag and began taking out containers. The prawn crackers were a generous serving and she ripped open the wax paper bag and popped one into her mouth before she had even thought about it, then immediately felt chagrined for being so common when she was a guest in Ben’s house. 

Ben grinned at her as he turned around, water in hand. “Are they good? I’ve never had the crackers.”

“Mmm-hmm.” 

Ben chuckled as he set the water down on the table, helping himself to a prawn cracker as well. “Oh, these are good,” he said as he brought glasses back to the table. He poured a glass for himself and Shannon before sitting down. 

Ben served them each a scoop of rice and a lemon chicken cutlet before handing Shannon her plate. 

“I also got vegetables, and some sweet and sour pork,” he said. “Help yourself to anything you like.”

“I’m looking for those prawn toasts,” she said, opening up the last wax paper bag. “Aha.” She served herself two, leaving two for Ben. She couldn’t help but hum happily as she bit into a crispy corner. “Perfect.” The prawns had been ground down to a coarse texture, not too smooth, just enough to make an even layer on the thin buttered toast, the entire thing held together by a light batter that was fried to a golden crisp. It was a combination of sweet, savory, and salty that just made her want more. She took a sip of the sparkling water to chase away some of the saltiness. “You know what would be perfect with these is a Gewürztraminer.” She could practically taste how the dry white would cut through the heavy flavors of the prawn toast. 

“I have one,” Ben said, standing up. 

“I wasn’t trying to suggest anything, just thinking out loud,” she said.

“You’re right though, and now I really want some.” He was already at the fridge, pulling it out. “Will you join me?”

She thought of how tired she was, despite the pleasant excitement of having dinner with Ben, but the lure of the wine was too strong. “I will, thanks.”

Ben poured them both a glass and brought the glasses and the rest of the bottle to the table. Shannon lifted her glass as he sat down. “To road trips,” she said.

“To road trips.” He clinked his glass against hers and drank before reaching for the prawns. “Oh, fuck me, Shannon, you’re brilliant,” he said. “This is perfect.”

They ate in relative silence for a bit, moving onto the chicken once the toasts were done. “I have to say, I’m glad you got two of these,” she said as she set her fork down, pausing after the first few bites.

“They’re not overly large, but so good,” Ben agreed. “Do you want some vegetables?”

“Yes, that would be nice.” She let Ben serve her from the container, finishing her wine as he did. She had no sooner set the glass down than he was pouring her more. “Oh, that’s quite enough for me,” she said. “Thanks though. I’m just so tired, any more is sure to put me to sleep.”

“I should probably be mindful of that myself,” Ben said. 

“I can take a cab home tonight,” she said, not wanting to be the reason he didn’t have more wine.

“I don’t want to make you do that,” Ben said. “You could stay here, if you like. I’ve got a guest room upstairs.”

She felt sleepy down to her bones, and there was something appealing about just going straight to sleep without dealing with the transition of getting home, seeing roommates, and getting ready for bed. 

“I’d like that, if you don’t mind.”

“I can take you home in the morning,” he said.

“In the morning I’d be happy to take the tube.”

“Alright, that would be great.” Ben already looked more relaxed as he reached for the wine. 

“I’ll have a bit more myself, then,” Shannon said, holding her glass out as he finished pouring his. 

“Should you tell your roommates you’ll be staying out?” he asked.

“Oh! Yes, actually, I should.” She took a drink, realizing her bag was still in the sitting room where she’d hung it up. “I left my bag out in the front room, I’ll get it after we eat.”

Ben pushed himself back from the table. “It’s already getting late, I’ll just grab it for you.” 

She had a brief moment of discomfort remembering what was in the bag, besides her phone, but Ben brought the entire bag in with him, not having rifled through it at all. 

“Thanks.” She pulled her phone out and texted Max as Ben settled in again.

“So, what’s the deal with your roommates?” Ben asked.

She looked up, puzzled. “What’s the deal with them?” 

“Yeah, are you all friendly, are you friends,” he paused and took a drink. “Tom said you have one roommate who seems particularly protective of you.”

“Right, Max and I are genuinely friends. I answered her and Sarah’s ad for a roommate a few years ago which is how I got to know them. Sarah and I are just friendly roommates, I’d say, but Max and I hit it off right away.”

“Is Max short for something?”

“It is. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” She gazed at him over the rim of her glass, trying to affect her best femme fatale. 

Ben laughed. “Alright then.”

“I admit that when you asked what was up with them, I thought you were being prurient.”

Ben shrugged with just one shoulder, tilting his head as he did. “Would that be so terrible? I am only human.”

“It’s just such a cliche, men being into the idea of lesbians.”

“Good reason though, isn’t it? If one attractive woman is good then two is better.”

“I suppose.” She took a sip of her wine and contemplated her empty plate, trying to choose between another prawn toast or another portion of one of the entrees. She decided on the prawn toast, snagging it out of the bag by a crisp corner. They wouldn’t be as good the next day, she reckoned. 

“Well if you’re not attracted to women yourself, just ask yourself, would two attractive men together not be something you’d enjoy seeing?”

She found herself suddenly, almost cartoonishly choking on a crispy bit of the prawn toast. She kept her eyes screwed shut as she took a careful drink, listening as Ben pushed himself back from the table. She exhaled shakily as the tap turned on, then cleared her throat. 

“I’m ok,” she said.

“Are you sure?” He set a glass of water down in front of her and returned to his side of the table.

“I’m sure.” She drank the water, only glancing up at him once she was done. 

His slight smile broadened. “Well, if you’re sure you’re alright then, go ahead and tell me. Sauce for the goose, after all.”

The warm tension in her belly felt more like excitement than fear as she decided to tell the simple truth. “I would enjoy it.”

Ben looked almost sleepy as he leaned back in his chair. Well he might, Shannon thought, they’d both been up for ages. “There, that wasn’t so difficult.” He held his glass cradled between his fingers, against his chest, undoubtedly turning the wine warm, but he was clearly past being bothered. “Have you ever?”

“I’ve been to a fair number of predominantly gay spaces, like clubs and bars, but it wasn’t to leer at people. But I’ve appreciated a handsome couple, just to notice, I suppose, that they’re lovely together.”

“Mmm.” Ben blinked slowly, and seemed to be staring off into the distance. “Suppose I don’t need to worry about you leering at Tom and I,” he said.

She felt the little pillow of excitement that had been growing in her deflate suddenly. “I would hope that the fact that we’re friends means you wouldn’t have to feel worried,” she said. “I’m a good person, I’d no more go around leering at a gay couple than you would to a lesbian couple you might happen to know.”

Ben sat up straight, setting his glass down. “What? No, I mean, I don’t need to worry, because I’m not exactly handsome.”

Shannon felt frozen for a moment, her mind feeling slow as she went over what he’d just said. “What?”

“I mean, if the thing we’re talking about is beautiful or handsome people together, objectively, I don’t really fit the bill.”

She blinked, trying to gather her thoughts. “First of all, there’s nothing objective about being handsome or not, and secondly, do you really truly think you’re not handsome? Because you are.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments. I don’t think I’m hideous, but objectively, I do look like Sid from Ice Age.”

“Who? Is that the little squirrel guy?” She squinted, trying to see it.

“No, the sloth. The one that looks like this.” He tilted his head forward, opened his eyes wide and pushed his hair off his forehead, then blinked exaggeratedly. 

“Yeah, alright, when you do all that with your face, a bit. A bit. But you are handsome. You have to know that.” She looked down at her plate where there was still a bite of her prawn toast left. She picked it up and popped it in her mouth, aware after she’d done it that it was a bit larger than she’d been anticipating. She tried to chew daintily, aware that Ben was staring at her, his smile slowly growing.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “If you think I’m handsome, thank you, by the way, and you clearly fancy Tom,” he paused, but didn’t wait for her to speak. “It follows that you’d want to see _us_ together.” 

She swallowed hard, as much to get the bite of food down as anything, but felt frozen, unsure of how to answer.

Ben’s smile faltered. “Shannon, I’m sorry, have I teased you too much?”

She shook her head. “Only, you weren’t teasing, really, were you? Just making a deduction.”

“Well then. I find myself curious. Will you tell me?”

She nodded, then realized that might be misconstrued as merely an answer to that most recent question. “Yes. If it were alright with you, truly, I would like it.”

He grinned, relaxing again. “Well that’s brilliant. Not only would it be alright with me, I’d be honored and delighted.”

“Would you now.” She found herself smiling back, remembering what Tom had told her. 

“I trust you. Implicitly.” He sighed. “I wish Tom were awake. I’m dying to ask if we can.”

“Yeah?” She finished her wine, feeling reckless and happy about it. “We can. I already asked him.”

Ben’s mouth was only slightly agape as he smiled at her. “Really? When?”

“Today, when you were off getting petrol.” She thought about showing him her sketchbook by way of explaining how it had all come about, but held back. “You think he could have kept himself from telling you if it had been longer than that?”

“I do actually. Still, I think it’s funny that we got the drop on him after all.” 

“So, is this something you do often?” she asked.

Ben shrugged. “Not often. From time to time, with trusted friends.”

Shannon found herself contemplating the surface of the wine she had left in her glass, wondering if she’d ever been that trusted by anyone. 

“Shannon?”

She looked up, startled. “Just wondering if I’d ever trusted any friend that much, or if one had ever trusted me that much.”

He smiled, the edges of his mouth curving down as he did. “It’s also to do with whether or not any of you had that particular desire. I’d say that the combination of having the desire to do that and finding someone to do it with is rare.”

“How does that start?”

“In one case it started with the husband and I being good friends. I trusted him enough to tell him about Tom, and about my proclivities in general. Some time after I’d also become friends with his wife he asked me if I would do him the favor of fucking his wife, as he put it.”

“I’m absolutely dying to know how that went.”

“I thought he was taking the piss, and then I thought, rather less pleasantly, that he was testing me. I wasn’t sure if maybe he’d felt like I was a little too familiar with his wife. So I asked him, was he having me on, and he assured me that he was not. So once we had a suitable time and place arranged we spent the evening together and we have done a few times since.”

“Only a few?” She sipped at the glass of water Ben had brought her earlier.

“Sometimes when we see each other the opportunity doesn’t present itself. We might not feel like it. Sex is the most unusual thing about our friendship but it’s not the most important.”

“Sex being a part of anyone’s friendship would have struck me as very odd at one point, but not any longer.”

“It’s not for everyone. I wouldn’t think any less of you if you still thought it was odd.”

“No, I really don’t. It sounds like they’re good friends and I just find it all sort of sweet.”

Ben smiled at her. “They’re really great people. You’d like them.”

“Are they particular friends of Tom’s as well?” She thought about the complexities of meeting friends when some would of course be friends of one's partner, a bit of a stranger step than a friend of a friend.

“Not particularly, though that’s only for lack of us all being together for any length of time. That and Tom being a bit of a loner. They’d love to meet you though.”

Shannon nodded slowly, fatigue and the slight warmth from the wine and food clouding her thoughts. “They know about me?”

“They do.” 

She tilted her head as she looked at him, trying to imagine Ben with this mystery couple. “Who are they?”

Ben licked his lips. “Naturally they’re a little bit protective of who knows about this.”

“But they know about me.”

Ben nodded slowly. “I realize that doesn’t seem fair, but look at it this way. You’re a woman, dating a man. They’re a married couple having sex with a man.”

She finished her water as she thought it over. Ben had a point, and perhaps even more so if they were making their living even partially on the back of their reputations. It was that implied piece, that they deserved more discretion than she based on their celebrity, that rankled, yet she realized that she didn’t know for a fact that they were actors like Ben. Asking would have been too close to prying. 

“Fair point, but I still like my privacy,” she said.

“I know. Please be assured that I told them about you more in the context of my own life, rather than telling them about yours. And they are trusted friends.”

She smiled, feeling the predatory edge to the way her lips curled, satisfied when Ben leaned back just a bit. “Am I not a trusted friend, Ben?”

Ben smiled back, appeased by the warmth in her voice. “Trusted friends of longer tenure then. And I will tell you all about them, but I need to let them know first.”

Shannon nodded. It seemed a fine distinction, that he was definitely going to tell her, only he needed them to be aware, first, not that he was going to ask their permission. Still, she chalked it up to the manners that a polyamorous group probably could not do without.

“Alright. Until then I will think no more of it.”

Ben nodded slowly, looking over the food left on the table. “Do you want anything else to eat, or drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m good.”

Ben stood up, gathering the takeaway containers and stashing them in the fridge. He returned to the table to get the dishes as Shannon stood up, feeling awkward. 

“I’m sure I’ve got a spare toothbrush,” Ben said. “If you give me just a minute I can make sure the room is ready for you.”

“Of course.” Shannon picked up her bag, feeling inside for her phone as Ben ran up the stairs. She spared a thought for what he might be moving out of the guest room, giggling to herself, but knew that it was more than likely nothing more exciting than a basket of laundry. 

She leaned against the worktop as she texted Tom. _We got to talking over dinner and I’m still at Ben’s. Staying over in the guest room. I’ll take the tube home in the morning._

She stared at the phone for a moment, but Tom seemed to be asleep. Just as well, she thought to herself as she slipped the phone back into her bag.

At the top of the stairs she paused on the small landing, waiting as Ben rummaged in a narrow hall cupboard. 

“Knew I’d find this,” he said, turning around with a wrapped toothbrush and a new tube of paste. He handed them to her along with a large t-shirt. “The guest room is just there, and you can leave the light on in the washroom if you want, so you can see if you have to get up at all.”

“Thanks Ben.” She suddenly felt incredibly tired, more than ready for sleep. “Should I set myself an alarm?”

“I don’t have to leave the house until after ten tomorrow,” Ben said. “I suppose if you think you’ll sleep past then.”

“I hope not,” she said, but made a mental note to set an alarm, as she felt like nothing was out of the question.

“Alright. Night then.” Ben nodded at her as he turned to go into his own room. 

In the washroom she brushed her teeth and splashed a bit of water on her face. Once in the bedroom she changed into the long t-shirt, sniffing at the cotton as she pulled it on, but it smelled only of a very light detergent, not at all as if it had been heavily worn, as some of Tom’s shirts did even after he’d washed them. She suffered a brief pang of missing him, made all the stronger for the strange place she found herself in, but fatigue was overtaking everything else. She plugged her phone in and set the alarm for eight, checked once more for a text from Tom, then laid her head down, asleep almost as soon as she’d pulled the duvet over her shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> Find us [here](https://cumberhardhiddlesbitch.tumblr.com/) over at tumblr and say hey or ask questions or just look at our pretty, pretty boys.


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